Outback Dreams

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Outback Dreams Page 8

by Rachael Johns


  ‘What’s happened? Is it your parents? Will?’

  ‘No.’ He stopped walking. Trust Faith to think bad news would be family-related; something happening to your family was the worst that could happen to most people.

  ‘Then what?’ She stepped forward, right in front of him and her hands reached out for his. ‘What’s happened?’

  He swallowed. ‘Mack rang. The Paynes have taken their property off the market.’

  ‘Oh, shit. No.’ Her hands squeezed his. ‘Why?’

  ‘Apparently they have a nephew who wants to get into farming. He’s convinced them to lease the farm to him for a few years and he’ll buy it off them when he can.’

  ‘Oh, Monty. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘That’d be a first,’ he tried to joke, but saying his bad news aloud made it seem more real.

  She didn’t even smirk. The seriousness in her eyes was testament to the fact she knew this meant the world to him. ‘There’ll be other farms, you know. This isn’t the end of your dream.’

  ‘I know.’ As usual, Faith spoke sense, but there weren’t loads of other farms on the market in Bunyip Bay. And Bunyip Bay was where he wanted to be.

  He’d need time to get his head around looking elsewhere, but if that’s what had to be done, then so be it. After having all his hopes pinned on the Paynes’ farm, he couldn’t bear going back to toiling on other people’s properties and watching the rewards of his hard work reaped by someone else.

  ‘Are you going to come back inside?’ Faith asked with a shiver. ‘It’s glacial out here. Trust me to choose the first freezing night of the season to road test my sexy outfit.’

  He laughed at her attempt to lighten the mood. She was right about the sexy part, but he didn’t want to think on that right now. Mostly, he wanted to slink off back to his place and nurse his sorrows alone, but the fighter in him wanted otherwise. Doing that would feel as if he were admitting defeat when defeat wasn’t an option.

  ‘Sure,’ he said, drawing Faith into his side in an effort to warm her some. ‘This is just a minor setback, but we still have the loan to celebrate, right?’

  ‘Right.’ She grinned, her eyes lighting up in that way only hers could.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You’re the best mate ever.’

  ‘You too, Monty. You too.’

  Chapter Eight

  Faith hung up the phone and put another tick on her spreadsheet. Between the household chores and collecting eggs from the chickens, she’d spent the morning drafting a list of businesses and individuals who might be able to sponsor the Barking Ball and had set to work straight away, contacting those she could on a weekend.

  She grinned at the impressive list: the Shire had offered the hall free of charge, the printer in Geraldton had offered a massive discount on the invitations, and loads of shops in Bunyip Bay had donated goods or vouchers. Two more calls and she’d reward herself with one to Monty.

  Monty.

  She sighed deeply as he once again took prime spot in her thoughts. Her heart had broken for him last night. How could the Paynes get his hopes up like that and then take it all way? If she hadn’t been drinking, she’d have climbed into her four-wheel drive, driven over and had it out with them herself.

  The night had been so good until then. Curtis had gone home with her number punched into his phone and left her with the imprint of his lips on her cheek, but when she’d lain down to sleep, all she could think about was how Monty’s arms had felt around her as they’d walked back inside the pub.

  She shivered at the memory.

  Last night she’d been cold and worried about him, but what was her excuse this morning? Thank God her sleep had been dreamless. She didn’t think she could look him in the eye after another raunchy dream.

  Focus. Two more calls and then you can ring him.

  She punched the number of a local textile artist into her mobile. Simone was Adam’s cousin and the widowed mother of one of her netball girls. They hadn’t had much to do with each other, but Simone’s animated personality was well known in Bunyip Bay. In addition to raising two girls and doing her art, she volunteered for a number of local committees and had organised a number of major events in her time. She answered on the second ring.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Simone. It’s Faith Forrester here, I wonder if I could steal a moment of your time.’

  ‘Oh, hi, Faith. Sure. Is this about netball?’

  ‘No. I’m actually organising a ball for a couple of months from now. Long story short, it’s a fundraiser for Dogs for Autism, an organisation that—’

  ‘I know it,’ Simone interrupted. ‘My nephew in Sydney is autistic, and my sister-in-law is desperately trying to raise funds to get him one of those puppies. How can I help?’

  ‘Well, I’m planning to have an auction on the night and I wondered if you’d consider donating one of your fabulous artworks.’

  ‘Yes, yes, and more yes, but can I help with anything more practical? I’d be happy to assist with the actual organisation of the ball as well.’

  Faith grinned at the excitement in Simone’s voice. She was the first person she’d spoken to who had known about the charity already.

  ‘Are you sure? That would be awesome. I will need to put together a small group of volunteers.’

  ‘Consider me your first recruit. When do we start?’

  Still smiling, Faith spent the next ten minutes outlining her plans. After arranging to meet in town the following week, they said goodbye. Faith barely had time to tick Simone off her list when her mobile buzzed with an unknown number. Frowning, she answered. ‘Hello, Faith Forrester.’

  ‘Faith,’ purred a semi-familiar voice down the phone line. ‘It’s Katarina Lamberusco-Cunningham. How are you?’

  ‘Good thanks.’ Faith frowned, wondering why Kat would call her.

  ‘I’m taking over from Priscilla as Ms Alumna of the Year coordinator, and I wanted to touch base to see if everything was going okay. Are you on track?’

  Oh … just what I need. ‘Yes, it’s all going well.’

  As if Kat hadn’t heard her speak, she barrelled on, ‘Because if you need help or don’t think you can manage—sometimes people pledge on the night and then realise it’s not their thing—we can work something out.’

  ‘No. It’s fine,’ Faith spoke through gritted teeth. On a scale of one to ten, Kat irritated her more than perfect Ruby. Pre-empting her next question, she added, ‘I’m organising a ball to fundraise for Dogs for Autism. I’ve just organised the invitations, and…’

  Kat cut her off. ‘That’s lovely. Sounds like you’re on the ball.’ She laughed and Faith realised she’d been trying to make a joke. When her giggles faded, she asked, ‘Is that lovely man of yours helping? How is he?’

  So consumed was she with thoughts of the ball, it took a second for Faith to realise who Kat meant. Here was her chance to say they’d broken up, but somehow different words fell from her mouth.

  ‘Monty? He’s splendid. Really supportive of what I’m doing and willing to help in any way he can.’ Her thoughts drifted once again to his muscular arms offering warmth last night. What would it take to get that image out of her head? They were only arms for goodness sake! Curtis had actually touched her with his lips.

  ‘That’s just fabulous,’ Kat said. Faith imagined her Botox smile. ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’

  ‘And he you.’ As if that would ever happen. ‘Anyway, it’s been fabulous chatting Katarina but I really must go. My to-do list for today is as long as a freight train.’

  ‘Alrighty then. You just remember I’m only at the other end of the phone line if you need any help or support. We’ll speak soon.’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ Faith lied, more than happy to disconnect the call.

  Strictly speaking, she hadn’t made two phone calls, but two conversations had been had and that was good enough. She leaned back in her swivel chair and made the call she’d been dying to make all mor
ning.

  ‘I was wondering how long it’d take for you to call,’ came Monty’s greeting after only one ring.

  She laughed. ‘And a very good morning to you too. You sound better than I expected.’

  ‘I’m fine. Disappointed of course, but there’s no need to worry, I’m not about to do anything stupid.’

  He knew her so well, but it was good to hear the relaxed tone in his voice. That was one thing she loved about Monty—nothing could keep him down. ‘What are you doing then?’

  ‘What? Right now? I’m nailing floorboards down on the cottage verandah at Adam’s.’

  ‘Hardy-hah. I meant, what are you going to do about your loan, about getting a farm?’

  ‘Mack’s looking for properties farther afield. I can’t just sit around and wait for someone else in Bunyip to decide to sell.’

  She’d expected that. It was the advice she’d rushed to give him last night, but the thought of him actually moving away again made her insides ache. She swallowed, vowing not to let her feelings come into this. The last thing she wanted was to make her best friend feel guilty about following his dream.

  ‘Of course not. Let me know if anything comes up,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll be the first to know. I’ll talk to ya later.’

  ‘All right. Bye Monty.’

  ‘See you soon.’

  Faith smiled at the phone a moment after disconnecting, happy that he wasn’t going to let one setback get him down, and then she returned to her work. When another call interrupted her planning only five seconds later, she decided she might need a PA. She answered and her grin grew when she recognised the caller’s voice.

  ‘Hi, Curtis.’

  ‘Too soon to call? Do I look too eager?’

  She laughed. ‘No. Not at all. I’m happy to hear from you.’

  ‘In that case, what would you say to dinner in Gero Friday night? Maybe a movie afterwards?’

  ‘I’d say that sounds like a lot of fun.’

  ‘Awesome. Can you pick me up? I don’t know if my old bomb will make the distance?’

  ‘Um, sure. You’ll have to give me your address, though. I don’t actually know where you live.’

  He made a snorting noise. ‘Don’t worry. Half the time I don’t either. I’m camping out on a mate’s floor until the cray season is over and we head to Queensland. I’ve got another mate there who’s got some jobs lined up for us.’

  ‘So you’re not staying in Bunyip Bay?’ The question slipped out before she thought about it.

  ‘Nah.’ He paused a moment. ‘That’s not a problem, is it? You’re not looking for marriage, kids and the whole shebang are ya?’

  Her foolish heart sunk a little. She’d managed to snag the attentions of yet another guy who just wanted a bit of fun. Was there a flashing neon sign on her head that read “Perfect for a great time, not a long time"?

  ‘No, of course not.’ She forced amusement into her voice. ‘I’m only twenty-nine.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Plenty of time for that serious bizzo later.’

  ‘Yeah, plenty.’

  So why had her day just taken a nosedive?

  Chapter Nine

  Over the next week, Faith kept busy cooking stews and smoko snacks for the upcoming seeding season and working on plans for the fundraiser. She’d set the date for the last Saturday in June when, hopefully, most farmers would have finished seeding. With Simone’s help, she’d booked the Memorial Hall, started designing the invitations, and begun drafting press releases for the media. Faith relished the busyness but grabbed every opportunity to get away from Forrester’s Rock because life at home hadn’t improved at all.

  Her dad had barely spoken to her all week; the grunts he gave her to pass the broccoli at dinner didn’t count. So many times she wanted to scream that she hadn’t stopped picking up his socks or cooking his favourite desserts, despite her threats to do so, so why oh why couldn’t he just smile at her occasionally? She felt trapped. On the one hand she didn’t want to leave Forrester’s Rock, but on the other hand, she couldn’t go on living in such a toxic place. She prayed for rain and vowed that once seeding was over, once the ball had been ticked off her list, she’d have it out with her father. She’d held off far too long, not wanting to cause disharmony—for her mother’s sake, for her memory—but disharmony was already here and it was time to face it.

  At the sound of the front door opening and closing, Faith glanced up at the clock. Good Lord, it was almost five and she hadn’t even contemplated dinner. She leapt out of her chair as Ryan entered the kitchen.

  ‘Hey, sis, what’s for tea?’

  She racked her mind for what could be defrosted from the freezer while Ryan helped himself to a beer.

  The bottle hissed as he opened it. He took a long sip, smiled and then said, ‘Haven’t you got a hot date tonight?’

  ‘Oh, shit. Is it Friday already?’ She dropped her head into her hands and sank back into her seat. She was supposed to pick Curtis up in an hour so they’d make it into Geraldton for their six-thirty reservation at the Indian restaurant.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!’ Ryan’s voice was incredulous. ‘You and Curtis seemed joined at the hip last week.’

  Looks can be deceiving.

  Cancelling on him would have been a major disappointment a week ago; now it didn’t seem like that much of a deal, but she silently reprimanded herself. So what if Curtis didn’t want long-term? She deserved to go out and enjoy a nice evening with a nice guy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she rushed her words as she stood up, ‘but you guys are going to have to make do with leftovers. There’s leftover roast and mashed potato in the fridge and frozen veggies to go with it.’ Mostly Dad and Ryan complained about her giving them too many vegetables anyway.

  Ryan placed his beer on the table. ‘Go get ready. I’ll handle dinner.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She could have kissed him, but decided to save her affection for Curtis. Just because he didn’t want to settle down, didn’t mean he wasn’t up for a good time. And he was still cute as pie.

  Feeling rejuvenated by that thought, she all but skipped down the hallway to the bathroom. Her shower was quick, but she took more time—much more—than usual in front of the mirror, flossing, moisturizing and even putting on make-up. Feeling like a clown under all the foundation, she fought the urge to grab the roll of toilet paper and start stripping off layers, but when she looked in the mirror, she gasped. Wow. Although a total amateur when it came to make-up application, she must have done something right because she looked mighty fine, even if she did say so herself. She selected one of her new outfits from the wardrobe, pulled on her knee-high boots and, bag in hand, skipped back down the hallway.

  Her dad and Ryan were sitting at opposite ends of the dining table, munching silently. She did a little twirl. ‘How do I look?’

  Ryan wolf-whistled. ‘Awesome, sis. She looks great, doesn’t she, Dad?’

  Frank grunted, but Faith wasn’t going to let anyone dampen her mood. She was beginning to enjoy glamming up a bit.

  Surprising her father, she kissed both men on the cheek and then wriggled her fingers in goodbye. ‘Don’t wait up.’

  Monty parked in front of the Jones’ impressive property on the edge of town, feeling like a high school kid come to take his sweetheart out for the first time. For the past half hour, he’d been battling visions of Ruby’s father answering the door butt-naked with a shotgun. But when he saw Ruby waiting by the letterbox, his fears about seeing her parents evaporated. Scooping a bunch of beautiful cottage flowers off the passenger seat, he leapt out the driver’s side and made his way round to greet her. His palms were clammy but he hoped the tissue paper around the flowers would soak up his nerves.

  ‘Hi there.’ He smiled, inwardly cursing his naff greeting.

  Looking absolutely stunning in a black skirt and slim-fitting red top, Ruby stepped towards him and grinned. ‘Hi there, Monty.’

  ‘Hi,’ he t
ried again as he offered her the flowers. Too late he realised he should have kissed her on the cheek, but he wasn’t thinking straight. How could he when the sight before him left him tongue-tied?

  She took the flowers and as she sniffed them, her sleek liquorice hair fell over her face and onto the petals. ‘These are beautiful, thank you. You must have gone to some lengths to get them.’

  He chuckled. ‘You’ve obviously seen my garden.’

  ‘That’s not a garden,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘Okay, I confess. I may have sweet-talked Mrs O’Neal into letting me raid hers.’

  ‘Really? How? She’s never once smiled at me in the shop. I know she has a nice garden, but I thought she got it through growling at her flowers to grow.’

  Monty laughed and held open the passenger door while she slid inside. As she settled in the seat he couldn’t help but admire the slim, tanned legs emerging from her knee-length skirt.

  She looked up at him. ‘Are we going to go or are you going to stand here all night breathing in the fresh sea air and staring at my legs?’

  ‘Go. Yes.’ He jumped into action, slamming the door and almost tripping over his feet to get to the driver’s side.

  ‘You’re really funny, you know that Monty?’

  He cringed at her words as he turned the key in the ignition. “Funny” was good when you were out with your mates having a few beers, but he wanted to be so much more than funny tonight. ‘I aim to please.’

  ‘So, tell me,’ she said, settling back into the seat as he reversed out the drive. ‘How did you wheedle those flowers out of Mrs O’Neal?’

  ‘Absolutely no wheedling involved.’

  For the half-hour journey to Geraldton, Monty explained the various odd jobs he did for some of the pensioners around town. Weeding, landscaping, renovating kitchens and bathrooms, laying patios and fixing broken hinges. You name it, he’d done it. She couldn’t believe the stories he told her—of being offered biscuits, cakes, stews, even having his clothes mended. ‘Last winter Mrs Wiggins knitted me a jumper!’

 

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